


Tears of Guthix

by ArceusTheCat



Category: Runescape (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Poetic, no idea what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 01:55:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArceusTheCat/pseuds/ArceusTheCat
Summary: A lonely snake guardian meets an adventurer to help pass eternity guarding the Tears of Guthix.





	Tears of Guthix

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what this is but here's an ode to one of my childhood memories. I seriously loved ToG since it gave me free experience in skills that were boring like farming... heheh. Juna needs some more love since she is a very good danger noodle that I want to hug so much as thanks.

Long ago, a god came upon this world from another plane. He looked around and with a smile he decided to live here. He had seen how countless other worlds had been torn up and ruined by other gods and so he vowed to protect this one. He became one with the planet and set up a barrier to protect it from such catastrophe.

Of course, even a modestly sized planet like this one could not hold all of his power. He was, after all, one of the strongest gods out there, so his power would leak out of the rocks deep in the caverns below a human city. He was afraid that this seepage could give strength to the wrong beings, upsetting the balance of nature and possibly even being as devastating as a god war.

He came upon me as a tiny, young snake. He asked if I could be a guardian for this power and in return he would grant me immortality and strength. I was honored to have such a request sent from the god of the planet himself, so I gladly accepted.

It was dreadfully boring, though. Years, decades, centuries went by and almost nothing changed in the caves. There were no other living things in this part of the cave aside from some creatures made of blue light. The essence of the god was too strong for normal life to handle. Even though he was the god of nature and balance, exposure to too much life energy was just as dangerous as the deadliest toxins.

So I sat, coiled around myself, with my thick tail blocking the entrance to the little alcove where the energy was so concentrated that it took liquid form. I had no need for food, water or sleep… but I still wanted companionship. The light creatures couldn’t speak or interact with me outside of picking up my tail every now and again. I was lonely for thousands of years before a curious human found their way into my section of the cave.

I was put on instant high alert. Could they have come to steal this life energy for themselves to destroy the world? No. I could see into their heart and as they approached me it held nothing but childlike wonder.

They saw me and smiled. They asked my name and what I was doing. I replied with a soft voice, to show that I meant them no harm. They asked if I was bored and I said that I was… so they began to tell stories.

They started small, like how they rescued a cat from an abandoned sawmill when it ran away from their owner. They talked about how beautiful the willows were along the riverbanks and how they always said a silent prayer of thanks when he cut one down. They told me about their tiny home and how they were building it up, bit by bit, with their own two hands. They shared a story of a close encounter with a ferocious river troll when they were fishing one day.

It felt like their stories went on for hours and I couldn’t help myself. I smiled, or at least as best a giant python can smile, as they spoke. Their voice was small and quiet, like a bat, but I could see in their warm eyes that they loved talking about their adventures.

I decided that they were a good person to entrust the power of the so-called tears of my god to. They were humble and always thankful for what nature provided and so I knew they would use the power wisely. I hoped that they could spread their simple lifestyle and ideals amongst the other humans. Humans can be so terribly cruel to each other and nature…

I gave them some of the magical rock that held my god’s power to carve into a bowl and lifted my tail to allow them to collect the liquid. I made sure not to expose them for too long, lest their mortal frame grow too much and kill them. They drank the liquid and thanked me, saying that they felt stronger.

I told them that them could come back next week. I would give them more time in the tear chamber in exchange for more stories. They smiled and promised me they’d do so.

Over the years we became great friends. They grew as an adventurer, slaying dragons that had become greedy and upset the natural balance, along with foiling plots to bring dark forces into the world though chinks in my god’s barrier. They were lauded as a hero on the surface but they never forgot to visit every week. I have to admit that I became quite attached to them. They were so kind and humble that it was impossible not to like them. They fought for a peaceful goblin tribe’s right to exist and they made many other adventurer friends. I was proud of them. They were out there doing my god’s work by keeping nature’s balance in check in the face of a rising human population. They made sure that this world wouldn’t die like so many others that my god had seen.

I knew that one day I would not see them for the week. Mortal lives are so short because that is the way my god wished it to be. Everything had to die before it could be born again. There was no such thing as waste in nature and neither was stagnation. Everything had to continually transform to keep the balance going.

Still, my knowledge did not prepare me for that day when the adventurer did not return to the cave. At first I wondered if they may have forgotten amongst all of their grand stories where they were the hero or maybe it was their advancing years slowing their mind down. Rather, I naively wished one of those situations to be true.

A day later from when they would normally come, a cat that I recognized as one of theirs came to me. Their eyes were sorrowful as they told me that the brave adventurer had died. They did not go down in battle against some demon or dragon, nor had they succumbed to a terrible plague that they found in the middle of the land of the undead. No, they had peacefully passed in their sleep in their quaint little home.

I was relieved that they did not feel pain and yet I felt great sorrow. My friend would not visit me any longer. I asked the cat if their companions were taken care of by someone else and they nodded. The adventurer had adopted an orphan years ago and groomed them to be their successor. The now-adult orphan gladly took them all in and would pick up where their parent had left off.

A while later a new human came into the cave. They too looked at the world with nothing but awe and respect and I felt myself smiling at them as I did the first adventurer. They were not the same, of course, but they were so similar that it hardly mattered to me. I learned from them that the adventurer was also an orphan, taken in by a hero and then developed wanderlust to explore the world as an adventurer.

I look forward to my weekly meetings with the new budding adventurer. It amused me how so many of the stories were the same, but how differently they could be told! They too rescued a cat from a sawmill, but instead of using food to lure the creature out they were able to speak directly to them with an enchanted amulet from the old adventurer. They found out that the cat ran away because they saw a nasty rat and wanted to chase it away from their owner’s house… only to get lost and have a thunderstorm roll in and hurt the poor feline’s ears and scare them out of their wits. The new adventurer took the cat in their arms and helped them calm down before bringing them home again.

This new adventurer also liked to hunt down monsters ravaging the land more than their predecessor. They seemed fearless in the face of all the brushes with death this lifestyle brought with it. In fact, they seemed to relish in danger. When they drank the tears, they would gain knowledge of strange plants and runes to bolster their combat effectiveness.

It occured to me that the tears give knowledge in the drinker’s weakest areas. The first adventurer knew loads about plants, animals and fish but little about fighting whereas their heir was a strong fighter but had gaps in the supporting skills. Fitting, how my god is god of both nature and balance.

As with nature, the cycle began anew with a few modifications with this new adventurer. I was content knowing that I had a new friend, much like the old but with their own uniqueness to keep the stories interesting. I hoped that my god had heard my silent pleas for stimulation and that I would never be alone again, thanks to a kind adventurer, and that he would continue this cycle until the power would not need a guardian any longer.


End file.
